


Love Means Nothing

by Skilley



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tennis, Autistic Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Eventual Keith/Lance (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron) Friendship, Kolivan and Ulaz are Keith’s Dads, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Multi, One Shot Collection, Rivalry, Tags Are Hard, Tennis, broganes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-05 06:28:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17319725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skilley/pseuds/Skilley
Summary: Yes, I made a Voltron Tennis AU (because let’s face it, we all needed one).Containing: Pining, Rivalries, Bad Puns, and a whole lot of tennis.Get ready for the drama™️I’ll probably make this into a one shot collection sort of thing, I’m not sure yet.Updates will be random.





	Love Means Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure where this is going, but feedback is appreciated. This has not been proofread, so expect mistakes :P
> 
> If you’re interested in playing D&D with a Voltron theme, let me know :]

“Game, Set, and Match to Shirogane!”

Keith groaned and sunk down, laying back against the cold court as sweat trickled along the side of his face. His eyes squeezed shut and he painted lightly, feeling a breeze ruffle his shirt and push his hair into his eyes. 

“At least you got a game this time.” A boy with short blonde hair crouched next to him and tapped a cool water bottle against his forehead. 

“Don’t remind me.” Keith sat up, wiping his face and hydrating himself under the blaring sun. It was the hottest time of the year, and he had insisted on playing regardless of the weather. Though, if he didn’t love the exertion he probably would’ve called it quits hours ago. 

A hand reached into his field of vision, startling him out of his thoughts, and he grasped it with his own, letting the bigger man help him up. 

“You wanna play a set Regris?” The man asked after Keith was on his feet. The blonde immediately shook his head, laughing. 

“No way Shiro. I’d be crushed!” Keith numbed his shoulder into Regris’ and the three made their way over to the benches, grabbing their belongings and slinging their bags over their shoulders. 

They headed toward a mid-sized building, the sound of other players echoing from the other courts around them. Keith sighed as they entered, the air conditioning doing its job. Noticing them entering, the man behind the desk slipped over to them. 

“How’d it go?” He asked, ruffling Regris’ hair though he was shaken off. The man was larger than even Shiro, and he wore a grey vest over his dark shirt. His hair was long and dark, braided behind him. Shiro grinned at him, and Keith cursed softly, punching him in the shoulder. 

“You already know Dad,” He gestured out the window. “You’ve been watching me lose the whole time.”

“At least you’re improving, kit.” Keith only gave him a pouting quirk of his lips, moving to the refrigerator behind the desk. 

“How’s business today Kolivan?” Shiro asked. Regris, sensing the boring old-people-talk that they usually fell into, skipped away to join Keith in his raid. 

“Not too busy.” Kolivan shrugged, glancing around the shop. “But then again, not many are as dedicated as you all with this heat wave.”

“I guess.” Shiro chuckled a bit, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll take Keith home so we can cram. Will you be okay with Regis running around?”

“We’ll see.” Kolivan smiled. 

Saying their goodbyes, Keith and Shiro went over to a dual seated motorbike parked in the VIP employee lot. The vehicle was black with purple streaks, and two decorative white wings ran parallel to the sides. 

After shoving their bags into the side car, Shiro got on and turned the key, Keith sliding in behind them. Reaching into the seat compartment, the elder pulled out two helmets and passed one back, not putting his on until after Keith did. The younger wrapped his arms around the man in front of them and they were off. 

The two took the long way back, passing through the neighborhood to hit the dusty dirt roads that were closer to the desert terrain that resides a few miles out. Shiro revved the engine over the roar of the wind, doing a few small maneuvers and feeling Keith’s giggling more than hearing it. 

They made it back when the sun was just leaving the top of the sky. The house was large and two floored, made of dark brick. Keith unlocked the door as Shiro moved his bike into the garage, and they switched shoes in the entryway. 

The house was silent other than their own noise as Ulaz, Keith’s other dad, was still on shift at the hospital where he worked. They went upstairs to the room marked with a black ‘K’, and settled on the queen sized bed. 

A few hours later, the room was a mess. Notes, textbooks, and pens were strewn over the comforter, and the boys were babbling equations and advanced concepts that would make no sense to anyone else. Eventually a soft knock resounded from the bedroom door and they realized how late it had gotten. 

They gathered their study materials and picked up the bed as the door opened. A man with average build and spiked black hair watched them scramble, catching a glimpse of the garbled equations and shaking his head with a smile. When the room was somewhat in order, the two turned towards the door. 

“Hey Ulaz. Sorry for intruding yet again.” Shiro grinned sheepishly even though he came over all the time. 

“We’re glad to have you anytime. Care to stay for dinner?” Ulaz asked.

“Sorry, but I promised my mom that I’d be back to help with her computer. Maybe next time?” Ulaz nodded and Shiro bowed slightly in habit. Giving Keith a quick half-hug, he made his way downstairs, waving to Kolivan as he left. 

Keith and Ulaz made their way to the kitchen where Kolivan had already set the table, and they sat down to eat. They each filled their plates, Keith going for a large helping of salad. Digging in, he looked up to see the slight disapproving looks from his fathers. Sighing, he grabbed some chicken and added it to his plate as well. His dads continued eating as though nothing had happened. 

“How are you’re studies going?” Kolivan asked after a minute. Keith shrugged, still chewing, and swallowed after a moment. 

“Alright, I guess. Shiro’s helping me through the physics and stuff, and I’m helping him with his English assignments.”

“I can’t even begin to understand the things they teach in your schools nowadays,” Ulaz grinned. “And I’m a doctor!”

Keith smiled into his salad, well aware of his father’s dislike of math, and shared a fond look with his other dad. 

“How’s your rank?” Kolivan asked, attempting to prevent one of Ulaz’ “math is useless” spiels. 

“Still first, though I think that I could bring up my GPA a bit before the season starts.” Keith looked up thoughtfully, mentally scanning his grades. His mind soon got lost in school-related thoughts, as his fathers began quietly conversing about work. 

After the meal Keith headed back upstairs, his dads refusing to let him do the dishes for the third night in a row, and he got ready for bed. Grabbing his pills from the bathroom cupboard, he took two of them dry before settling under his sheets and drifting off. 

The next day began the new semester, and Shiro drove Keith to school. The day passed quickly, and soon the athletics kids all swarmed the hallway leading outside to the fieldhouse. Slipping into the locker room, Keith met up with the other sophomores as the upperclassmen were in the back hallways, farther from the field house. 

There were only two other sophomores on Varsity, and both were younger than Keith. After moving around a lot when he was younger because of his dads’ work, Keith had started school late. He was as old as the juniors, but in his sophomore year, and he took classes that were senior-level in advancement. It was a bit complicated. 

Slav and Nico were twins, though they didn’t look anything alike. They both were crazy into “multiple reality” theories, and made a fantastic doubles team. No one could decipher their weird signals and strategies, though they claimed it was all math, and it confused other teams a lot. 

Listening to their crazed babble, Keith put on his grey, purple, and black uniform over spandex shorts and slid on his black cap, tying his hair into a short ponytail. The upperclassmen arrived while he was slipping on gloves. 

The juniors made up most of their team, and filled in the majority of their latter. Thace, a thinner but still strong man with spiky brown hair, was their vice captain. He hung around with Ranveig and Sendak, two stockier doubles partners, and they all lived in the same neighborhood. Regris was the youngest junior, and followed Keith around. 

Trugg and Ladnok were sisters, and grouped with another girl named Drick. They were all athletic and lighthearted, and made a lot of small talk when they were forced to run laps. Unknown to the others, they also headed the fan club that shipped almost all of the male players with players from other schools. 

There were only two seniors, Shiro and Sven. Sven was a foreign exchange student from Sweden, and he looked surprisingly like Shiro despite their lack of relation. Because Shiro was also ESL, the two had a close relationship and Sven also cared a lot about Keith. Shiro was captain this year, and the team dynamic was lively. 

Their coach, Zarkon, has a son at another school but poured his heart into theirs. Their team, the Blades of Marmora high, was ranked nationally and a top competitor. They held many championship titles, and every member was dedicated and focused. 

Coach Zarkon worked them hard, but they all loved the challenge and had fun despite the grueling practices. He was a man of few words, but thy all respected him without question, trusting his methods. 

After everyone changed out they took to the courts, Shiro starting them on a few laps to warm up. Thace led stretching next, and Zarkon came out with his usual whistle and a clipboard. He sent them out for a few 10 point tiebreakers, and walked around to watch them play. 

Afterwards they played timed rounds of Le Bosh with punishments for the losing team, shuffling the teams each time. 30 minutes after the final bell rung the coach called them up and they formed a circle.   
“Team, I have news.” The players’ eyes focused on their coach, who looked at each of them in turn. 

“The coaches of the district met together, and we’ve decided to introduce a new event before our season starts up again in a few months. Our first meeting is on Saturday, and we’ll be going over most of the details then.”

“What type of event is it?” Shiro asked, stepping forward slightly. Zarkon nodded in acknowledgement, noting the excitement on his boys’ faces. 

“We’ll be hosting a series of mini tournaments and...socials, to promote friendliness between teams and prepare the seniors for scouting in the spring.”

“Sounds amazing. So we’ll get to play more, which is great, but what about certain...rivalries between teams?” Thace had paused, hesitant, but thinking about certain players in particular and the history between some of the schools in their small district. 

“Only three teams will be attending at the beginning of this event, and we’ll be making sure that nothing gets top out of hand. Hopefully, this will help make rivalries less animalistic as time goes on.”

Thace nodded in understanding. 

“If there are no more questions, you’re free to go. Go easy on out-of-school practice this week, I don’t want you tiring yourself out and getting injured.” Zarkon gave a glance toward a certain player before leaving, and the group headed back to the locker rooms, discussing the new information. 

Unlike Monday, the week passed slowly, and practice was more lively than ever. The Blades had carpooled to The Courts, a private club that had agreed to sponsor their new event. As they walked in, all their hopes for a peaceful gathering trickled away. 

The captain of The Rebels leaned away from the Coalition player who was leaning in his face, his voice loud and obnoxious in the room. Members of the two teams stood gathered around the disturbance, some exasperated and some anxious as the coaches hadn’t arrived yet. 

Shiro sighed from his place at the front of The Blades’ entourage, and the Coalition member turned. Looking over the new faces, his blue eyes focused on one in particular and he forgot about the player he was just taunting. Whipping his finger, he pointed and screeched:

“You!”


End file.
